


Exclusive

by Pondermoniums



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, New York City, One Shot, Separation Anxiety, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: In a skeptical modern realm, true mates are rare to nonexistent. Even more so as omegas are the only ones who have the ability to sense it.Merlin knows the moment he sees Arthur who he is, or rather, who they are meant to be for one another, but Merlin wants to court him properly, slowly. The problem is he meets Arthur while he is in a relationship with someone else.The pain drives Merlin all the way to New York City, where time has passed and he works with Gaius, lives next to Percy and Gwaine, and just so happens to run into the one English blond in all of New York who is visiting the city on business.





	Exclusive

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I think I started this....two summers ago after my own visit to NYC. Anyways, happy Christmas, Chag Urim Sameach, and I hope everyone stays safe and warm this winter <3
> 
> Quick thing that's mentioned: the "V and A" stands for Victoria and Albert Museum, which is an actual thing in London; totally check it out if you're there.

Merlin’s eyes blew wide, incredulous and disbelieving. Just as quickly as his heart plummeted, he rotated and felt his spine _thud_ against the passersby around him. In traditional New York City fashion, curses and insults were hurled at him but he was deaf to them, blinded by the blond hair from which he was desperately moving away.

As if his blood vessels were bruised, he felt the ache of his heartbeat against the skin of his fingertips. His head felt heavy, bowing against the weight of his thoughts and leaving his nape feeling exposed. New York City was currently stuck in between winter and spring; today was one of the first warm days of the new year, but he withdrew his scarf from his rucksack and quickly wrapped it around himself.

The back of his throat told him he was going to be sick, but he steeled his jaw and marched swiftly through the eternal crowds on the urban pavement. It logically could not be Arthur. Arthur was in London. Arthur was already set within a career, with alpha responsibilities; certainly not the liberty or time to travel—

“Merlin?”

He had definitely lost the feeling in his fingers, because he could barely feel the hand gripping his elbow. Merlin looked at the familiar face as if it belonged to a stranger. In many ways it did, and in other, deeper ways, he was more intimate than any stranger.

Arthur smiled and Merlin stared at the sideways smile as if a dagger was twisting in his ribs. “I never thought… Across the pond and everything! In London, sure, but I never expected to recognize you here. It’s wonderful to see you.”

Merlin couldn’t smile. He simply hoped he did not look as sick as he felt. “It’s a long island but it’s not large.”

Arthur chuckled, ducking his head graciously for a second. He said something but Merlin did not quite hear it.

He looked good. He looked really good. Arthur was blessed with the strong glow of an alpha as well as having won the genetic lottery. Some might think his crooked teeth and large nose were faults but Merlin never had.

He blinked, realizing Arthur was waiting for an answer. “Sorry?”

Arthur grinned. “Did I catch you at a bad time? It’s fine. Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Your mobile.”

“Why?” he blurted dumbly.

“So I can put my American number into it,” Arthur managed to say patiently.

Merlin gripped the device in his pocket. “How long are you here?”

Arthur was clearly becoming impatient but let his waiting hand fall back to his side. “A few months. Or longer, depending on how things go back in London, as well as my own choices. I know we didn’t…end well, but we also didn’t really begin. We’re blocking traffic so I’d like to see you again. Someplace a bit more leisurely?”

Merlin peeked at the people shoving past them, tourists and business workers alike pushing Merlin closer than he’d like to Arthur but not as close as he was starting to need.

“Fine,” he relinquished, revealing his phone.

Arthur’s look was deadpan. “If you were any more enthused, you’d be dead.”

“Be quick about it,” Merlin snapped.

Arthur laughed with a shake of his head as he took the device and navigated the screen. “I’d forgotten how authoritative you could be when annoyed.”

“You’re the one who commented on blocking traffic,” he reminded.

“I did,” Arthur agreed pleasantly, checking his own mobile for the text he sent himself from Merlin’s phone. “Got you. When is a good time to call you?”

“It’s hard to say,” Merlin guarded. “Text first.”

“Evenings, then,” Arthur concluded.

“Why did you even ask?” Merlin growled, but Arthur only smiled mischievously.

“Because I had forgotten your bossy side,” he said unabashedly, “and I’m enjoying interacting with it again.”

 _“Bossy?”_ Merlin exclaimed. _“I’m—_ You are calling a kettle black, do you realize?”

Arthur put Merlin’s phone back into his hand. “Cheers, Merlin. I’ll be in touch.”

He moved past Merlin, who watched him with vague shock. His feet took him to his original destination, Fifth Avenue, where it was spacious enough for him to check his phone to see if it was real. There it was, right at the top of the contacts list: Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin thrust the device into his coat pocket and marched across the street to his job.

*******

It wasn’t so much the alarm as it was the vibrations underneath his head that startled Merlin awake. But when he realized it was not his alarm, rather his ringtone, he was livid.

“What?” he growled.

“Well you used to be a morning person,” Arthur commented dryly. Merlin’s insides squirmed painfully.

“You said you would text in the evening.”

“Are you busy?”

“I was sleeping.”

“So no. What are you doing for breakfast?”

“Eating,” he smarted.

“Uncanny,” Arthur responded in kind. “Shall we do that together?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Arthur demanded.

“Because it’s four-thirty in the morning!”

“You used to wake up at this time.”

“I don’t work at the V and A anymore, Arthur,” Merlin grumbled, planting his cheek against his pillow.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’ll find out by lunch time,” Arthur concluded.

“What did I used to say about abusing your corporate power?” Merlin accused, wiggling deeper within his blankets.

“I don’t work for my father anymore,” Arthur revealed. “I started my own business. I’ll just ask Gwaine.”

“Gwaine?” Merlin wondered, and then blurted, “Gwaine? You still talk to Gwaine?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Merlin, you sound like you’re still in bed.”

Merlin glared at his window, refusing to hear the softer lilt in Arthur’s voice. “That is unnecessary information. And even if you did manage to get ahold of Gwaine, he averagely wakes up in the afternoon.”

“Not today, he knows I’m in town. We’re meeting for lunch. You should join us.”

“Why are you so intent to eat with me?” Merlin complained.

“You’ve forgotten that we were friends, once,” Arthur said, somber. Merlin was quiet. “I won’t force myself further where I am unwanted, but I want to share your time again. Either you can meet us at the restaurant or—”

“Don’t give me a choice,” Merlin groaned. “That’s not how friendship works, you prat—”

“Or I can meet you at the Met,” Arthur finished, causing Merlin to sit up. “It’s up to your convenience.”

“You piece of—!” Merlin exploded. “How do you already know where I work?”

“Gwaine happened to say he usually meets you on the Metropolitan stairs and you walk together to lunch,” Arthur replied, unashamedly proud of himself.

Merlin hung up and rolled out of bed. It was rather convenient that he and Gwaine were neighbors, and they had exchanged keys.

“Hmuh? Wha? Whe’rs th’fire?” Gwaine stammered when all the lights went on in his place, as well as the garbage disposal.

“The fire has blond hair and is named Pratdragon,” Merlin declared, and then, “Sorry, Percy.”

“I’s fine, Merl,” Percival breathed, oddly serene to such an awakening. The arm that was under Gwaine’s head curled up so his fingers could rake the dark curls off of his partner’s face. “I told Gwaine you’d be angry.”

“Why’re y’so mad so early?” Gwaine sighed, rolling against Percival to avoid the light and noise.

“You didn’t tell me Arthur was coming to New York,” Merlin declared. “Have you told him we’re neighbors?”

“Not yet,” Gwaine uttered and then snapped awake. “No—course not.”

Merlin’s glare turned deadpan, only moving to turn off the garbage disposal in the kitchenette. “I’d like to keep Arthur out of my life, please.”

“You’re being unreasonable, mate,” Gwaine sighed, finally sitting up in bed. Merlin was mildly surprised to see he had boxers on.

“What happened exactly?” Percival asked, curing his arm under his head while the other rubbed Gwaine’s back.

“Arthur cheated on him,” Gwaine said without preamble.

Percival’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “Merlin’s not unjustified in his reasons then, right?”

“It’s a slight bit more complicated than that,” Gwaine said with a look to Merlin, who stood unrelenting with his arms crossed.

“Do I want to know?” Percival wondered.

“Well it depends,” Gwaine began. “What would you qualify as ‘exclusive?'”

His partner maintained a neutral expression. “I don’t want to know.”

Gwaine continued, “Because the way I heard it, Arthur was honest about his dating other people while he was starting out with Merlin.”

Percival shook his head and stood out of bed. “I’m not the right person to judge this. I like to be with people one at a time, but many people do date more than one person until they establish a mate. Alphas especially.”

“Exactly!” Gwaine agreed as Percival went to the dresser, but then relinquished, “especially in our twenty-first century environment, it can equally be expected for you to be singularly interested from start to finish. So when exactly is a couple ‘exclusive?'”

Percival’s head emerged through his shirt and he looked at Merlin. “What happened?”

Merlin held the backs of his arms, cold in the winter air they were letting through a window. “He said he was dating someone else. I wasn’t exactly surprised, but we went on more dates and began spending a lot of time together. Things were getting heavy but I guess it wasn’t enough time because I…I interrupted his date with someone else.”

“Remember Gwen?” Gwaine prompted.

Percival was loading grinds into the coffee maker as his brows lifted. “Gwen? But Gwen’s really sweet. And she never struck me as the type to let her partner be with someone else.”

“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” Gwaine scrunched his nose cutely. “When you can’t even loathe the other woman. But Merlin, dear, is leaving out something pivotal.”

Percival did not push Merlin for answers, but when Merlin remained silent for a long while he ventured, “Is it an omega thing?”

Gwaine snorted, “It’s definitely an omega thing.”

“It’s not important anymore,” Merlin hushed, but Gwaine’s mirth evaporated and he stood from the bed.

“What do you mean it’s not important? Merlin, he’s…”

 _“I wanted to take it slowly,”_ Merlin curtailed. “I’ve never blamed Arthur. He was only ever honest with me; it was my own reaction that made me leave.”

 _“Leave,”_ Gwaine huffed, accepting a mug from Percival. “You left the damn country and moved across an ocean.”

“And I still have the right to keep my distance,” Merlin declared as he moved toward the door. “I’m not saying you can’t spend time with him but keep me disconnected from it.”

The door shut behind him and the pair was silent for a time before Gwaine asked, “Should we invite Arthur to dinner here?”

Percival gave him a look. “I think we should respect Merlin’s wishes.”

Gwaine grimaced. “We can’t do that, Percy. They’re mates.”

Puzzled, Percival exclaimed, “What do you mean? No—don’t tell me if me knowing is just going to make things messy for Merlin.”

Gwaine snorted, “He royally cocked this up all on his own.”

*******

Merlin entered the Metropolitan Museum through a back entrance in Central Park used only by employees. He made a point to tap the _night mode_ on his phone before leaving his rucksack and outerwear in his locker. Winter had made a bitter come back this morning, and the smell of ice was in the air.

“Where are we today?” he asked Gaius, the manager of restoration and maintenance.

“Sixteenth century France. The suits of armour are overdue for a polishing,” the elderly man replied. Old he may have been but Gaius was sharp as ever. He handed Merlin a pair of white, microfiber gloves and they traversed the wide corridors of the museum to the armoury exhibit. Sectioning off the gallery on one side, this allowed no more visitors to enter, while the ones already in eventually left and they were able to move each piece or set of armour into the renovation rooms. The work was slow and tedious but Merlin enjoyed it. Either he conversed with Gaius and the other staff, Freya and Mithian, or he put in his ear buds and worked among the ghosts.

Today consisted of both, as he laughed at something sharp Mithian said but after a time he plugged both of his ears until Gaius’s hand touched his shoulder. Merlin pulled an ear bud out to hear, “The Cloisters called and need someone.”

Merlin set down the helm he was working on and went to gather his things. Wrapping the scarf around his neck, he donned his coat and finished with his beanie before he left the same way he’d come.

*******

Arthur jogged up the stairs of the Met and passed the security inspection before he perused the museum. He had been here once, long ago during a trip with his father and sister. Picking up a map, his eyes wandered over the galleries and exhibits, pondering which would be the right place to find—

A familiar voice piqued his interest and he looked up to see Gaius. The old blue eyes brightened upon seeing him and they shook hands. “When did you get in?”

“Just a couple days ago,” Arthur said. “Is Merlin around?”

“You just missed him,” Gaius informed. “Is it important?”

Arthur admitted, “I’m trying not to wear out his phone so he doesn’t refuse to take my calls. Would you be able to reveal when I could catch him?”

Gaius rubbed his white hair. “Ah…well he might be gone all week, it’s hard to say.”

Arthur frowned. “Gone? He didn’t say anything about leaving the city.”

“Oh no, no,” Gaius laughed. “He’s just gone to the Cloisters, uptown. The north part of Fort Tryon Park. Of course in this weather it’s an uncomfortable walk.”

“You’re not telling me he walked, are you?” Arthur laughed, but then realized, “He walked. Of course he did, the idiot. How long ago did he leave?”

The old man chuckled with a shrug. “I’m sure he took the subway but he enjoys the walk afterwards. He was here not ten minutes ago.”

“Right. Thanks, Gaius,” he said with a hand on Gaius’s arm.

Arthur rotated toward the entrance, but Gaius walked him out, “Are you using a car? Your father will have my head if you stay outside longer than absolutely necessary.”

“He’s been wanting it anyway since you left England,” Arthur said lightly. “You were a great advisor to him.”

Gaius chuckled. “Perhaps, but I thought I might actually make use of my studies in artifact restoration. You’ll share tea with me one afternoon, won’t you?”

“Certainly,” Arthur promised as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Thanks, again.”

As Arthur returned to his chauffeur, he understood why Merlin had come here. Apart from the metropolitan charm New York City had, Gaius had given him a place to land; it was also convenient they had broken up the same time Percival’s job had transferred him and his partner to the same city. Hell, even Morgana was spending nearly half the year here instead of London nowadays.

Pulling out his phone, he checked a map to see how far the Cloisters was to the Met… He told the chauffeur to make a stop along the way.

*******

Merlin took his ear buds out for the majority of the walk from the station to the museum. The cold had driven a good number of people inside, giving way for the winter joggers, necessary dog walkers, but no one else. Even the premature birds singing for spring had nestled back into their homes. He enjoyed the smell of winter and the grey cast to the sky. His throat burned as the elevation of the park grounds began to rise, the monastery having been built upon a hill like an acropolis. The path was winding and laborious, but he finally reached the car park and crossed over to the—

“You’re not even going to look at me? Wow.”

Merlin outright startled on the stairs, his head jerking up to find Arthur leaning against the outer wall of the monastery. Merlin’s eyes were wide above the scarf wrapped up to his nose. “What? What are you doing here?”

Arthur stepped forward and gently tugged the fabric down to press the lid of a hot chocolate to his lip. “Your nose is scarlet. I wasn’t sure what you’d want but drink it to warm up.”

Merlin let him place the travel cup in his hands while his eyes narrowed. “Gaius told you.”

“Yes,” he said mildly.

“You’re going so far as to bother Gaius?”

“I didn’t bother him,” Arthur defended. “If anything, he would have liked me to stay longer instead of rush after you.”

“Rush?” he pestered, ignoring the slightly rosy hue to Arthur’s complexion and windblown hair.

A cheeky grin flashed on his face, and softened into something like bashfulness. “I’m off today. I am my own boss, after all.”

“But I’m actually working. I’m not here as a tourist.”

“Then work. When do you get off?”

Merlin held the warmth of the hot chocolate in his hands as he relinquished, “Four.”

“That gives us enough time to walk the gardens before they close,” Arthur said pleasantly. “Go on ahead, I’ll meet Gwaine and Percy for lunch and be back at four.”

Merlin sighed, knowing there wasn't any point in refusing this late in the scheme. He silently continued into the monastery-turned-museum, focused on just doing his job.

Arthur watched him disappear within the stone archway, feeling like a rope that had snapped free and was dangling loosely. Had he pushed too far? Perhaps it was due to the winter numbing his senses so he couldn’t smell him, but Arthur found it easy to forget Merlin was omega. He stood eye level with most alphas, even taller than some, and defied any stereotype of an omega being weak or submissive.

And Arthur loved it. He missed it. He knew Merlin was in New York City but he had not expected to run into him; he would have let Merlin come to him as he mingled with Gwaine and Percival or Gaius, but seeing Merlin again had made Arthur’s heart flip sky high.

*******

Arthur opened the door of the restaurant, feeling the internal heat encompass him. Percival saw him first as Arthur hung his coat on a hook and rubbed his nose as it tingled against the sudden flush of heat. Percival pulled him into a hug and Arthur’s sinuses woke up as he breathed in the gentle and subtle aroma Percival had despite being a strong and tall alpha.

Gwaine welcomed him by pushing a pint across the table. “So Merlin said no, huh?”

Arthur laughed. “He’s actually doing his job, I can’t fault him for that.”

“Right, it’s me who skips work,” Gwaine japed while scooping what looked like an artichoke dip into his mouth.

Conversation strayed to football and rugby among other things while they ate two courses and stayed longer for drinks. The restaurant quickly filled up as an icy drizzle rushed people indoors. A large party pushed both doors open for them to file in as Gwaine shivered. “Damn, I miss hot mulled wine. Merlin has Gaius’s recipe. You should suggest he make some,” he said to Arthur, who smiled but shook his head.

“I’ve already suggested enough. Merlin was always lenient but I think I’ve reached his limit.”

Gwaine drew designs in the condensation of his glass. “I doubt it, mate. Merlin was always sweet on you.”

“Even when you were sour,” Percival seconded.

Arthur laughed. “Maybe, but he’s hidden it away in favour of other flavours.”

“What has he said?” Percival asked.

Arthur’s brows lifted as he sighed. “Well…not really anything. Of course, apart from the general orders of ‘fuck off.’”

Gwaine laughed, “If he hasn’t said it directly, then you still have time to piss him off.”

“It’s not actually my goal to do that,” Arthur sassed.

“Perhaps a different approach,” Percival suggested around an extra order of potato wedges. “We’re all alphas here. Maybe a less direct approach would be better.”

“I dated an omega girl once,” Gwaine provided. “She always wanted the courting gifts but then not to actually sit down and have a conversation with me.”

“Because you speak nonsense most of the time,” Arthur said.

Gwaine’s jaw hung open. “Well I won’t share my wisdom with you anymore.”

Arthur laughed but Percival was contemplative. After a moment he asked, “Do you actually want to get back with him?”

Arthur had lifted his beer to his lips but the glass rested on the bottom lip. He thought about it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m sure I could have handled our break up a little better, at least.”

“How did you break up?” Percival asked.

Gwaine seconded, “I never got the full story about that, either. Gwen, bless her, was willing to take your shame to the grave and wasn’t spilling anything.”

“Thank you, for automatically assuming it was my fault,” Arthur stated bluntly.

Gwaine smiled apologetically. “Sorry, love, but for all Merlin’s faults, a complete lack of intelligence isn’t one of them. He’s remarkably durable, too. Something significant had to have occurred.”

Arthur sighed again. “I suppose he doesn’t hate me enough to spread the story around. That’s something. It was not my finest moment.”

“Are you going to tell us or just hint at it?” Gwaine ordered the same time Arthur checked his phone.

“Oh, look at that. It’s nearly four already. Don’t slip on your way out, boys.”

He left his share of the bill on the table and shrugged into his coat. The sleet had stopped and he arrived just after four. The hallways were quite narrow as he traversed up stairs until he found the intersection of wider, high-ceilinged corridors where an information desk stood. He went ahead and paid to see the museum, heard the apology that he only had forty-five minutes to see everything, and then asked if he could possibly find Merlin anywhere.

The woman brightened immediately. “Oh, Merlin? If he’s still here he wouldn’t be in the galleries but I can call him, if you’d like?”

“That’d be lovely,” he smiled, leaning against the desk.

The woman spoke into a sleek headset. “Hey, Merl, are you in the restoration lab? You have a visitor.”

 _Merl?_ Arthur thought with some amusement while there was a long pause. So long that the woman’s smile faltered until she received an answer.

“Okay!” her eyes lifted to meet Arthur’s. “He’s in the Medieval Herb Garden. Here,” she said, unfolding one of the maps. She marked up the route with a pen even though it looked like it was through two rooms and to the right, but Arthur thanked her and strolled through the gallery of carved alter pieces, triptychs, and other relics of an age long since past. The museum managed to keep the interior tolerably warm, but drafts of cold air swept through his hair as doors were constantly opening for people to-ing and fro-ing from the courtyards.

Arthur passed through one of them, and found himself under one of the telltale cloisters: a long corridor that was technically outside, with the monastery wall on one side and a colonnade on the other looking out over the garden. Pots of dormant plants stood in between the columns, but the air was fragrant with robust herbs or early bloomers. Since the sleet had stopped, patches of sunlight shone through the colonnade, and in one of them was Merlin sitting on the ledge between the columns.

“Your English is showing,” Arthur said softly beside him.

Merlin looked up from his phone. “Hm?”

Arthur looked around them. “The Medieval Garden during an English spring.”

Merlin blinked, and then—finally—smiled. “I wouldn’t be the one to accuse a New Yorker of being weak to cold.”

Arthur smiled softly. “No, I suppose you’re right. Shall we walk, then?”

 _He’s in a better mood,_ observed Arthur as they came around the colonnade into the garden. Gardens always did soothe Merlin.

“What’s brought you to the Cloisters instead of the Met?” he asked conversationally, passing what looked like potted citrus trees.

“There’s been a problem with the gold leaf,” Merlin said. “Medieval adhesive can only go so far, so it’s flaking off.”

“How do you fix that?”

Merlin peered at him as they came to what used to be the carved, stone rim of a well. “You want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked, Merlin,” he said, and he meant it. “For such a flower head, it was somehow nice hearing you discuss the chemistry of medieval paints and adhesives.”

“Which you asked about because you’re shit at proper flirting,” Merlin sassed.

“I appealed toward conversation, not flirting. Check.”

“Because you’re used to alpha women making things easy for you. You have no experience in actual courtship. Check mate.”

Arthur laughed. “Fine, fine. I only have minimal experience, but I’m looking to change that.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said testily. They paused in view of the vast river below.

“Merlin,” he answered. “I’m not going to pretend like I’m not attracted to you, or that I wish things had been different back then.”

“You told me you were dating her. It’s my fault for not standing against it.”

Arthur smiled softly. Traditionally speaking, an omega had no right to stand against anything. But Merlin wasn’t traditional, and it was the twenty-first century. “Perhaps it is both of our faults. Mine for not being as considerate as I ought to have been and yours for not being as needy as you might want to be.”

Merlin rounded on him, flustered. “N-Needy? _Needy?_ If I _need_ anything from a Pendragon, I’ll just get my self. You can’t see around your own head, with how big it is.”

Arthur burst out laughing, doubling over as they returned under the cover of the colonnade and made their way to one of the other gardens. “I believe it, but I’ll also have to call you a liar. Who was the one who waited an hour in a café, expecting I’d actually get the hint that you wanted an almond croissant?”

Merlin grimaced slightly, thinking back to what he was referring. “That was our first date…you remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Arthur said softly. “I’m bull-headed but I’m not stupid.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

Arthur shoved Merlin across the corridor so he barely avoided the skeletal reach of a dormant plant, but he laughed and jogged down the steps into the next garden. Arthur’s eyes widened as his sinuses cleared. “Oh…this one’s extra fragrant.”

Merlin smiled, but not in Arthur’s direction, causing the alpha to frown. “The sun rests here the most, making it the warmest place. The herbs here have awakened sooner than the rest.”

“How brave of them,” Arthur teased, leaning over to smell the sage. “Forecast says it’s supposed to snow again before the winter’s through.”

No answer. Arthur perked up, looking for Merlin, who was distracted by typing on his mobile. Arthur’s gut began to plummet. He hadn’t even considered…whether Merlin was involved with someone else.

“Emergency?” he called, pleased his voice did not betray him.

“Mm,” Merlin shook his head. “Morgana’s asking about dinner.”

Arthur’s lashes fell to half-mast as he marched forward and hooked Merlin’s arm with his own and began tugging him out of the garden. “What? Arthur?”

“Really, Merlin, you keep in touch with everyone except me. I’m not sure who the idiot is here.”

“For obvious reasons!” Merlin declared, trying to shove him off. Arthur strode on, while Merlin was forced to keep up though walking backwards.

“I broke up with her,” Arthur revealed, never breaking stride. “So we should really move past it.”

“You broke up with Gwen?” Merlin exclaimed, finally wrenching his arm free to walk properly. “But you and Gwen were…”

Arthur paused. “We were what?”

Merlin blinked, visibly hesitant. “Well…everyone expected the two of you would marry.”

Arthur’s expression was unreadable. “Then why did you accept when I asked you on a date?”

Merlin’s face stiffened. “Because I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. The result was lackluster, obviously.”

Arthur shook his head and continued onward. “Getting a straight answer from you, Merlin, is like pulling teeth. And you stayed with me for nearly a year! I couldn’t have been that bad.”

The only answer he received was a little smile in the corner of his eye as they made their way out of the monastery. “So dinner,” Arthur began on their way down the hill to the main road.

“What about it?” Merlin guarded.

“Are you spending it with me or Morgana?”

“Did you even know your sister—” Arthur unconsciously tucked Merlin’s hand within the warmth of his elbow, “—was in town?”

Arthur shrugged. “She’s always in New York. It would be a greater surprise if she were in London. So? Where’s dinner?”

Merlin sighed. Arthur was uncomfortable. And when Arthur was uncomfortable, his alpha nature took over like a blind form of self-preservation. “A small café has been getting good reviews. We wanted to try it before it became too busy to get a table.”

“Lovely. Let’s go.”

*******

Morgana pushed her aviators up past her hair upon seeing Merlin, and then stared bluntly. “Arthur? Father let you off your leash?”

Arthur gaped like a fish and then recovered himself. “Ha. Are we eating or not?”

He went in first to address the hostess whereas Morgana looked to Merlin, who shook his head with a long exhalation. She laughed, “You look exhausted already.”

“I think I’ve spent a total of twenty minutes with him since he’s been in the country,” Merlin confirmed.

She laughed and slid an arm behind him. “Let’s hydrate you. Arthur’s easier to tolerate with a full stomach.”

The hostess had finished gathering menus and smiled at them. “Right this way.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed on Morgana’s arm around Merlin. They lifted to meet her hard look of disapproval. Merlin unconsciously walked out of her arm to follow the hostess whereas the siblings were left glaring at each other. “Sit,” she uttered murderously.

Arthur’s lip lifted in a quiet snarl but quickly followed when he saw Merlin turn around. Arthur all but crashed into Merlin on the side of the table that was a booth, thoroughly sandwiching Merlin against the wall so Morgana had to take the seat opposite.

A waitress appeared and Morgana said, “A pot of coffee for jet lag over there.” Arthur perked up like a disgruntled puppy being pushed away by Merlin. “And what flower tea would you recommend?”

“The chrysanthemum is quite good.”

“Wonderful. A pot of that as well for me and him,” she nodded toward Merlin.

As the waitress strolled away, Arthur said, “He can order for himself.”

“You’re late to this conversation,” she sassed. “Over the phone we agreed we’d split a pot. Could you get off of him? He can barely breathe.”

Arthur’s attention whipped around toward Merlin. He had successfully slid Arthur across the booth but had yet to remove his coat. Arthur’s proximity and being wrapped up in wool had made a scarlet flush quickly rise in his cheeks. Merlin’s eyes darted downward as he had the startling experience of Arthur’s hand expertly flicking open the toggle at his throat and yanking his zipper down in one go.

Morgana sighed and opened her menu with a _whap_ sound. “Oh they have breakfast all day. The bagel sandwich looks quite good. How was your day, Merlin? Apart from the obvious.”

She and Merlin looked at Arthur. “Uh,” Merlin sniffled, in the middle of shrugging off his coat. “Fine. The weather let me get across town. I can’t say it will be the same in the coming days.”

She frowned. “Surely they won’t make you cross traffic in the middle of a blizzard?”

Arthur had to assume she already knew he had come from the Cloisters. The ready communication between them sparked a rumble of annoyance in his chest that made Merlin look at him. The waitress returned with a copper pot of coffee and a kettle of frosted glass in which several blossoms swayed with the water’s movement.

“Do you know what you’d like to eat or do you need another minute?” the waitress asked.

“Oh…the portions are large,” Morgana observed, eyeing the meals around them. “Do you guys want to split some things?”

“The sandwich you mentioned is fine,” Merlin said. “And…the fettuccine?”

Morgana nodded then looked to Arthur, who simply said, “Fine.” He’d never opened his menu.

“So why are you in New York?” Morgana asked her brother as the waitress left with the menus.

Arthur, suddenly remembering his work, scrubbed a hand over his eyes. There would be hell to pay in the form of emails later. “A number of issues have arisen between the bank and marketing, and New York is the place to get a face lift when it comes to marketing appeal. I’m meeting with a graphic design firm tomorrow and the rest of this trip will involve kicking the bank in the arse so they stop twisting my documents in their favour.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Morgana frowned. “This is my line of work, kicking people’s arses.”

Arthur laughed. “Because—”

“Because you’re busy proving to father that you can do this alone,” she finished. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

Arthur’s smile was soft and understanding. His father and sister had not exactly been on speaking terms over the last half-decade. Too many alphas in one household resulted in family divisions. “Well if you’re willing, tomorrow afternoon will be spent sorting through emails before I meet with bank personnel the day after.”

“Convenient, I’m off that day but not tomorrow. Just forward the important things to me.”

“I’m not allowed to disclose business documents to you unless you are under my employment,” Arthur said.

Morgana looked at him as if she could see his lack of brain matter under his hair. “Don’t underestimate me,” was all she said, holding out her open palm. “Phone.”

He relinquished his mobile and she began shuffling through his emails, her sleek brows furrowing occasionally at the bank statements. Arthur’s gaze briefly wandered the café before he realized that Merlin had gone silent beside him. Merlin’s phone was on the table, its owner hovering over what looked like an e-book as he swiped through the short pages. Arthur was in the middle of trying to lean far enough to see what he was reading before he realized he was the only one without a phone.

“Never mind,” he said, reaching across for his phone from Morgana as well as her own beside her elbow. Merlin perked up when his mobile was yanked out of view.

“Arthur, what the hell?” Morgana said.

“First person to reach for their phone pays the bill,” Arthur proclaimed, piling them beside his hip on the bench.

Morgana lifted a brow. “Looks like you’re volunteering to pay already, seeing as you could answer a call for any of us.”

Merlin giggled and Arthur felt his annoyance evaporate. The food arrived along with sharing plates and the three of them split the sandwich and pasta before ordering a blueberry doughnut that was more like a ring of cake. The three of them felt immensely satisfied and thrice as heavy afterward.

Morgana exited first, immediately hunching her shoulders. “The temperature is dropping. Get home safely, Merlin,” she squeezed his arm.

He was already scrolling through messages from Gwaine and Percival offering to meet him somewhere—Gwaine trying to make it a pub while Percy was merely concerned. “It’s a straight shot on the subway,” he nodded. She waved down a taxi with no trouble.

“Straight where?”

Merlin turned to glare at Arthur. “As if I’m telling you.”

Arthur let out a long sigh. It fogged in front of his face, his nose already red. “Fine, fine. Send me a message, at least? So I know you haven’t died.”

“I can do that,” Merlin promised. “Do you have a way to get back to your hotel?”

Arthur wiggled his phone. “Chauffeur’s on his way. You know, I could give you a ride.”

“Nope. Bye, Arthur,” Merlin finished.

“Good evening, Merlin,” he uttered. He might have said more but Merlin’s shoulders were already hunched against the wind and marching against it.

**********

Merlin saw Gwaine and Percival standing outside of their apartment building; Gwaine was hopping to keeping warm and he rushed forward when he caught sight of Merlin. “’Bout time, mate, I’m freezing my twat off. I need a hot finger of whiskey instead of a pint at this point.”

Merlin laughed but apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m knackered and want to call it a day.”

Far from being bothered, Gwaine huddled close behind him into the building. “Drinks at home. Even better.” As they entered the lift he chimed, “So, how’s Arthur?”

“It’s really a charm to know my friends are against me,” Merlin returned.

Gwaine deflated. “We’re just trying to catalyze the healing of this mess.”

“Well it’s ironic that the only one on my side is his sister.”

Percival perked up, “Morgana’s in town?”

“She usually is,” Merlin nodded, feeling his ears pop. “We had dinner with Arthur.”

“That’s progress, right?” Gwaine exclaimed.

Merlin huffed, “What are you expecting to happen?”

The lift doors opened and they went to their adjacent doors. “For you to pull your head out of your arse and snog Arthur, obviously. He pulled his head out of Gwen so—”

The sound of Merlin’s key turning in the lock was harsh and the door shutting behind him loud. Gwaine looked to Percival. “Too much?”

**********

Sleet pelted Merlin’s window. His flat was full of the smell of baking muffins; both because he wanted muffins and because nothing worked better than his oven at making the place feel like a furnace. He was finishing a take-away box of lo mein since he was up late enough to be hungry again. Gaius had already called him to say that he had the next day off. The Met staff was lying low until the blizzard settled—

His doorbell chimed. His jaw clenched. No messages or missed calls were on his phone. Standing, he went to answer the intercom. “Merlin Emrys.”

“Package, sir.”

Merlin hesitated to look at the time on his mobile. “At one in the morning?”

“Mr. Pendragon insisted, sir. Before the storm hit.”

He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m going to kill Gwaine,” he said to know one and then pressed the button. “Apartment six-thirteen.”

He was grateful at this moment the list at the door of their building was of names but not their corresponding apartment numbers. He waited beside his door for the sound of the elevator and the knock on his neighbors’ door. It took three times but eventually Percival opened the door. When Merlin heard the elevator doors again, he stormed out of his flat and Percival easily stepped aside, his arms full of a massive box. Merlin leapt onto their bed, causing Gwaine to bounce right off the bed.

“He knows where I live now?”

“Not specifically,” he groaned from the floor.

“This looks like a care package,” Percival said from the kitchenette, knife in hand as he opened the package. “There are even refrigerated things in here. Arthur must really be concerned about the storm.”

Merlin glared as he pulled out a gallon of milk as well as two bags of bell peppers. “He sends his chauffeur to whatever store is open this late for—GWAINE! If you give that idiot an inch, he’ll take the whole bloody island!”

“Good!” Gwaine retorted, “Because you’re so stubborn that he’ll have to take the whole island before you pull the pinecone out of your arse!”

“Guys…” Percival said anxiously.

“Don’t tell me you don’t love him!” Gwaine commenced. “It’s not bloody possible and you’ve loved him since the first day the idiot looked you in the eye. Just because you walked in on him fucking someone else—”

 _“Stop.”_ Merlin uttered darkly.

“YOU FOUND HIM!” Gwaine erupted. Even the wind seemed to fall silent. “Do you have any idea what I’d give to have that extra magic or what ever the fuck omegas have that lets them know who their soul mate is? And you _found_ him. Fuck, Merlin, I…I was four months deep in alcoholism when you pulled me out of that pub. If it wasn’t for you I’d never have met Percy, and—shit—do you know how worthless I feel? I’d paint the sky for him but I’m nothing 'cept a mostly sober drunkard.”

“Gwaine…” Percival whispered.

“I don’t have that extra magic verifying he’s _mine._ That he’s meant for _me._ But you do. You have this exclusive ability and you’re just running away, even pushing him away, and it’s crippling you.”

It felt as if the walls were suddenly too close and oddly far away. Merlin realized he was still on the bed and moved to step off—

“There’s got to be another side to it,” Gwaine persisted. “There has to be. Arthur’s persistent but he understands consent. Yet he’s still here.”

“He’s here for business, Gwaine!” Merlin cried, stepping off the bed only to stumble. Percival caught him.

“Yeah and he blew off work to spend the whole day with you,” Gwaine scoffed. Merlin gaped at him while Percival set him on his feet. “Yeah. He wasn’t actually off work today. The idiot silenced his phone but not before it was going off like a firework inside the restaurant.”

“And if there is another half to it?” Merlin asked weakly, staying within the circle of Percival’s arms. He wanted to shake him off but the alpha’s warmth was a comfort against his cold body temperature. “If it’s not just me, if Arthur can somehow sense what we are…he wasn’t exactly eager to leave Gwen.”

Gwaine rubbed his forehead. “Love, you need to give him a break. He was with her for a long time, even loved her. None of us would have been surprised if he put a ring on her finger, but he didn’t. He met you.”

Merlin was shaking his head. “You don’t understand.”

Gwaine sighed raggedly. “You’re right, I don’t know what omega things are swimming through your head. I just know how Arthur feels. He’s not going to understand unless you tell him—”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you _can’t?”_ Gwaine retorted. Merlin could no longer tell if he was shaking his head or shivering. His oven timer was going off next door. He turned toward the door— “Merlin!” –and left.

Percival caught Gwaine before he could rush after him. “No, don’t.”

“But he—!”

“He’s lost his scent,” Percival revealed. “Gwaine, he…Merlin doesn’t smell like anything.”

**********

It was snowing when Merlin opened his eyes. Large, lazy flakes steadily falling past his window. From the ice splotches on the glass and the inches piled on his window ledge, the storm had landed.

Dragging his double duvets off the bed, he went to see New York blanketed in white. Far from the rage of wind and sleet just a few hours earlier, the blizzard was tranquil. Merlin did not know how long he stood there, watching the world and simply feeling the cold seep through the glass. When his stomach demanded a muffin, he turned around and found the large box just inside his entryway. He ignored it and made a pot of tea.

Two pots and six muffins later, Merlin was slumbering for a majority of the day. It only occurred to him in the late afternoon that the milk ought to be refrigerated. Finally dragging the box to the kitchen, he put the perishables into the fridge and uncovered an envelope under the blackberries. The paper was stained pink.

_Merlin -_

_Do you still like these? They’re out of season so we could only find one good box. Please do not be cross with Gwaine. He let slip that you were neighbors and I pushed the subject._

_I miss you. If this is not mutual then I will leave you alone, but you should know that it’s looking like I will be in the city for six months, at least. Morgana is helping me but even she admits that these processes can take some time. What I’m saying is, you and I have time. I won’t push for an answer now, but please consider it. It may be winter but it felt like spring when I saw you again. I’ll stop now before I write something humiliating._

_Yours truly,_

_Arthur_

Merlin let the paper float back inside the box. Did he miss him? Of course he missed him. Painfully. Agonizingly. The prospect of spending time with Arthur pushed Merlin’s thoughts to dangerous places, like how they used to behave when they were dating. Arthur was certainly not the poster boy for courtship, as he had gifted Merlin with everything from flowers to rotisserie chicken at the start of their dates. Considering the Pendragons had a chef, the chicken was delicious. What was Arthur eating without—it’s not like the idiot could cook for himsel—

Merlin threw himself onto the bed, angry and repressing all blond thoughts with blue eyes. Yanking the laptop off the bedside desk, he called the only person he knew who would have valid input.

Lancel’s face appeared on the screen, vacant and searching until recognition dawned on his face in the form of his soft, familiar smile. “Hi, Merlin.”

Merlin huffed, his pillow hugged so close only his nose and eyes were visible.

“Oh. You look lovely.”

Merlin’s eyes rolled and landed on him.

Lancel’s smile widened, granting a flash of teeth. “What’s happened?”

Lancel was patient for Merlin to answer, “Arthur’s in town.”

“Really?” Lancel said while stirring something. He looked like he was in the kitchen making dinner. “That has nothing to do with me finally moving back to England, does it?”

Merlin relinquished a laugh. “What do you mean? Arthur liked you.”

Based on Lancel’s expression to his iPad camera, Merlin knew he’d missed something. “You haven’t heard? Gwen and I are together.”

The pillow was yanked down as if it was hindering Merlin’s hearing. “What? When?”

Lancel shrugged. “Some months ago. She’s on her way home, now.”

“You’re living together?” Merlin puzzled.

Lancel laughed, setting the bowl out of the camera’s view. “She was quite lovely about it after hearing she was my mate. ‘Wasn’t much to think about or time to waste,’ was what she said. Merlin?”

He was frozen, gaping like something tasted bad. “We…” he sputtered, trying to gather his thoughts. “We were all in London…me, Arthur, and Gwen in a messy triangle and…why weren’t you piping up?”

“You had it handled, and I wasn’t exactly passive behind the scenes,” he admitted. “The more Arthur dated you, the less he was with Gwen and the more time I spent with her.”

“When did you know she was yours?”

“Same as you, first thing,” he replied.

Merlin paused, fixing the duvet around him. “Why didn’t you tell her first thing?”

“She seemed genuinely happy with Arthur,” Lancel explained. “Of course I was infatuated immediately, and after some time I knew I loved her. But because I loved her I wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be the best option?” Merlin grumbled.

Lancel laughed. “Yeah, and they say all the knights have shining armour until they take it off and haven’t bathed in three months. Who’s to say what makes us ‘soul mates’? An ideal physical chemistry for reproducing, maybe, or something more. I’m lucky that it’s more. Much more.”

“How much more?”

“You first,” Lancel prompted. “Why didn’t you tell Arthur?”

Merlin pouted like a child, hugging the pillow tightly. “I didn’t think true mates were real,” he shrugged, “and then I saw him.”

“It’s like a train wreck, isn’t it?” Lancel grinned.

Merlin shook his head, exhausted just by the memory. “Too much happened.”

“You really wrecked that market.”

“Arthur didn’t help!” Merlin defended. “That ass was trying to be considerate and making fun of me the whole time.”

Lancel chuckled, tossing the contents of a pan with a flick of his wrist. “Sure, sure. So after your feelings knocked over four innocent fruit stands, what happened?”

“Well…I met Gwen,” Merlin said. “And I…went from being in pain to confused and in love to heartbroken too quickly.”

“Ah,” Lancel nodded. “Emotional whiplash.”

“And a bit of what you said,” Merlin admitted. “He was happy with her… I wasn’t going to interfere, but then he asked me out and I think I said yes out of curiosity more than anything.”

“Because you weren’t hoping to steal him for yourself,” Lancel cornered.

“I wanted,” Merlin growled, “to do it _right._ I wanted to date and learn and…just live beyond an omega legend.”

Lancel nodded after a sip from a stem-less wineglass. “Sure, modern logic. We’re rare, though. Two of us finding our true mates, living in the same lifetime of one another, it’s an anomaly.”

“Yeah,” Merlin sighed, “but when I thought things were really going in the right direction with Arthur…well, it deviated in Gwen’s direction. Is this odd to talk about with you?”

Lancel shrugged. “She’s coming home to me, after all.”

“But what did it feel like? Seeing her with Arthur?”

Lancel’s eyes softened as he watched Merlin. “Awful. It felt awful. Like my soul had finally known warmth before being torn from my flesh. I had a good mask but I had to move to Spain. It became…too much.”

“Yeah,” Merlin sighed.

“You know, Gwen told me.”

Merlin could feel the skin around his eyes thinning as horror set in. “What?”

Lancel was as understanding as ever. “About why you broke it off with Arthur. She feels terrible about it. You know she really liked you.”

Merlin’s eyelids drooped to half-mast. “Yeah, the three of us were great together.”

Lancel laughed. “She understood why Arthur was drawn to you. I think she even had a crush on you for a while. That was the only reason she let Arthur be with you.”

Merlin tipped his head to that. “She kissed me once.”

Lancel had gone back to the stove but he glanced back with a laugh. “No shit, really? I never got that story.”

Merlin shrugged. “I was sick and I think Arthur made it sound worse than it was. When she saw me after I was better, she was overjoyed. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Gwen.”

“I know,” Lancel assured, “and she knows. Still, even though she and Arthur were winding down, she still feels like the other woman. Did you really break your nose trying to get out of there?”

“Ugh,” Merlin felt sick.

“She said you rammed your face pretty hard on the doorjamb when you saw them at it.”

Merlin covered his face in shame.

“And then fell down the stairs.”

“Stop attacking me,” Merlin complained.

“I can’t say I’d react better,” Lancel considered. “Actually, I am saying it, but I wouldn’t trade places with you.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said, deadpan. “So, the more-than-chemistry part?”

“You’re a bit of a masochist, Merlin,” Lancel observed.

“So it’s good, huh?” he concluded.

The smile on Lancel’s face said it all as he dumped the skillet’s contents onto a platter. “Yeah, Merl, it’s really good. Being with Gwen…I understand why you ran from Arthur, I do, but being with Gwen makes me feel like you’re making the wrong decision.”

“I hear that from Gwaine,” Merlin grumbled.

“Still with Percy?”

“Yep.”

“No surprise there.”

“They’re my neighbors.”

Lancel gave him a look. “I rest my case. You surround yourself with happy pairs but refuse to be within your own—Hey, love.”

Merlin paled. “Oh, I-I’ll go—”

“Is that Merlin?” Gwen’s voice chimed in the distance. “Keep him on!”

Lancel eyed Merlin with a smile like _You’re in for it now._ Merlin buried half his face in his pillow, staring angrily over it until Gwen plastered herself to Lancel’s side. His arm draped around her as he turned his face into her hair, breathing her in.

“Merlin!” she beamed. “It’s so good to see you.”

Gwen. All warm skin and bright eyes. She had always been beautiful but she was one of the rare ones whose genuine kindness was what took your breath away. “Are you looking at me like that because of me or because Arthur’s being as arbitrary as ever?”

Merlin blinked. “You know Arthur’s here?”

Gwen was tasting the sauce Lancel had mixed together as she said, “I spoke to Morgana on the way home. She’d like to go to that café with you again, without the ‘dead weight,’ is what she called him.” Merlin could not help but laugh with her. He’d forgotten how well they got along. “And don’t pretend like you’re not laughing to avoid the question.”

He looked guilty. “A bit of both.”

She smiled with understanding as Lancel rubbed her back. He exited the frame and the sound of dish ware was heard. “It’s all right. To be honest, Merlin, I feel a little silly about all of this. We hurt you so much only for Lancel to be my true mate.”

“Yeah,” Merlin sighed. “Things happen like that.”

Her smile officially melted. “Are you okay? How’s your nose?”

He huffed, “I didn’t break my nose!”

“Are you sure? You bled quite a lot.”

“That was because—” he barely stopped himself. _Because of the smell in the room._ But he couldn’t tell her that. “The air was dry when I hit it. That’s all.”

His phone distracted him. He looked at the screen and was puzzled to find a text from Lancel: _I haven’t told her Arthur’s your mate. Figured that’s your business to tell people._

He replied a quick, _Thanks._ and looked back to Gwen saying, “Arthur was mortified, so cut him some slack, okay? If he’s over doing it, it’s because he wants to make amends.”

“Arthur overdoes everything,” Merlin sassed before he meant to. It brought the mirth back to her face, at least.

“Yes, he’s an all or nothing sort of person. The only time he wasn’t was when he found you, and he wasn’t all in me—oh hell.”

He shook his head. “I get it.”

She leaned against the counter and accepted the glass of wine from Lancel. “I suppose this is a moot point. Just because Arthur’s in New York doesn’t mean you’ll want to get back together with him.”

“Thank you!” Merlin exclaimed, grateful someone did not make him feel awful for not seeking Arthur out.

“So you’re happy? Are you with anyone now?”

“No,” he said, but it hurt in his throat. It wasn’t like he could lie with Morgana, Gwaine, and Percy to correct his fib. Even Gaius kept tabs on his romantic life.

Gwen hesitated. “No, you’re not with anyone or no, you’re not happy?”

Merlin did not know what expression was on his face. _You used to be better at lying,_ his conscience told him. Any longer and it would be too obvious. “I’m not with anyone. Gaius keeps me busy…”

He heard Gwaine through the wall; the resonance of his voice was in the corridor, and louder than normal. Percival laughed at something and then…

“Merlin?” Gwen asked. “Merlin, you’re really pale.”

Gwaine was talking to Arthur. The door shut next door, and their voices were muffled. “I, uh,” Merlin stumbled. “I forgot errands I need to do. It’ll be snowing for a while and there will really be no hope of getting them done if I don’t hurry. Enjoy dinner, you two.”

Lancel appeared on the screen, looking dubious. Gwen wasn’t convinced either. “You sure?” she asked as if giving him another chance to lie.

“No,” he blurted, but hung up all the same. Bed covers and all went with him as he pressed himself against the wall his and Gwaine’s apartment shared. Occasionally clear words or muffled phrases came through but the soundproofing was decent. All Merlin could pick up was that Arthur had snow in places ice shouldn’t be and that Percival was craving muffins—

 _I swear, if any of you mention my baking…_ Merlin thought murderously. Usually at the first aromas of baked goods, Gwaine and Percival appeared at his door, sometimes even using the key without knocking. Of course Merlin rarely minded, but today was not one of those days.

 _Dinner?_ Had he just heard something about dinner? So he was finished with work and staying for dinner? Merlin could trudge his way over to Gaius’s but he would be imposing on his food and warmth, and Merlin would need to come back eventually. He was better off staying here, and staying quiet.

And Merlin achieved just that, in the form of slumber. Despite having a source of anxiety next door, after locking his door, the chain, and placing a rolled towel at the foot of the door for no scents to escape, he ate another muffin and passed out with relative ease.

When he awoke, it had stopped snowing apart from the occasional wandering flakes in the air. It was a new day, and Merlin rubbed his eyes groggily as he sat up with the duvets twisted around his legs. After a moment he remembered why he had fallen asleep but was at ease since Arthur was meeting with designers or something today, whereas Merlin dragged himself and his bedclothes to the counter to turn on the kettle.

After a strong cuppa, he filled a thermos with peppermint tea and found his good boots and coat for a walk through the city. Pushing his trouser layers into the boots and tying his fluffiest scarf around himself before stuffing the ends into his coat, Merlin considered himself ready.

Central Park was a dream. Not even the morning joggers were here for fears of ice under the snow. Merlin’s tread was light but sure, taking his time while he sipped his tea and breathed in the smell of snow and slumbering wood. It could be difficult to find the comforts of nature in a place like Manhattan, but during snow or rain or just particularly balmy evenings, the trees woke up. The grass would be fragrant and the artificial ponds were real enough for frogs to sing.

Through the trees Merlin could see a familiar bridge, and on it the figure he expected. “Aren’t you old for this?” he teased as he crested the bridge.

Gaius did not even look up from his book. “I am surprised your young marrow hasn’t frozen in your bones.”

Merlin chuckled as he unscrewed his thermos. Gaius peeked at him and lifted his own. “Something stronger?”

Merlin accepted but upon tasting the mulled wine he squinted into the contents. “Is this white?”

“I’m a bit tired of red,” Gaius confirmed. “A good white cooked with orange, cranberry, and cinnamon is refreshing.” Merlin hummed his agreement as he took another sip and handed it back. “How do you plan to spend your day off?”

“Waiting for you to give me some chore,” Merlin smiled.

“Ah,” Gaius appraised. “Well if you’re serious, we could get a head start on the polishing.”

“Mm. Just the polishing?”

“The Persian tapestries are looking a little frayed,” Gaius offered,” and the Baroque frames could use an oiling.”

Merlin laughed. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, no, these days are rare. You should savour it while you can.”

“I mean it. I’m not doing anything else.”

Gaius considered it. “I’m not one to deny good help.”

Only Gaius would carry a massive ring of keys on his days off, but the Met still had electricity, so Merlin’s security clearance card unlocked the rest. Thankfully there was not much to do with the tapestries apart from checking that the air quality was at the right settings so they did not deteriorate before their time. Oiling the sculpted wood of the baroque frames was possibly the most tedious so Merlin went there next. It was easiest to bring a ladder to climb the massive paintings’ height, but Gaius helped as well as provided a lunch of kebabs and salad, making the work easier.

The synthetic oil gleamed as it spread over a cuirass, vanishing to nothing but a protective shine as Merlin used a soft buffing tool on the broader pieces. Putting them back together was probably his favourite part. Feeling the pieces slot and hook into one another thanks to master craftsmanship was a subtle but certain pleasure. The knight was more of a coat rack than a man, but all suited up, it looked like it could joust just as well.

Merlin set the helm on top of it all as Gaius came in. “That will do for today. Thank you, Merlin.”

“Alright. Same time tomorrow?” he asked as he removed his gloves.

Gaius turned off the lights and followed him out of the room. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“Is it so irregular for me to take my job seriously?”

“Not irregular but to this extent…” Gaius gave him a pointed look. “You seek work when you’re dwelling on something. Polishing, baking—”

Merlin gasped, pausing with one arm in a sleeve. “They’ve probably eaten my muffins.”

Gaius laughed. “All the more reason for you to get out of here. Call me when you’re back safe.”

There were more cars on the roads on Merlin’s way back to his apartment, salt having done its work through the ice. He kicked his boots against the side of his building to knock the snow off before he called the lift up to his and Gwaine’s floor. He had his mobile out as he pushed his key into his door. “Hey, Gaius, I’m back. Yeah, you?”

He closed the door behind him as he listened to Gaius talk for a while and then, “Actually, can I have that mulled wine recipe? Was it pinot grigio or—hang on, Gwaine’s eavesdropping. He heard ‘wine’ and now he’s…”

He opened the door and Arthur smiled back at him. “Sorry, it’s just me. Should I tell him, though? About the wine?”

“Shall I just email you?” Gaius purred.

“Yeah,” Merlin finished and hung up. “I thought you were busy today.”

Arthur’s brows tilted with perplexity. “Do you know what time it is? What have you been doing to lose track of time?”

“I was at the museum with Gaius.”

“On a day like today? The whole city’s asleep apart from salters and cabbies.”

“Did you have your meeting?” Merlin challenged.

Arthur nodded. “Fair point. So are you going to invite me in for dinner or will I have to impose?”

 _“Ask him if he has any muffins left,”_ Gwaine whispered from his own cracked door.

Merlin’s lashes fell to half-mast. “We’re eating over there. And no muffins.”

“Aw,” Gwaine complained, but Percival was already dealing with pots and skillets. Merlin brought over a large onion and a bag of bell peppers and Percival put together a massive serving of stuffed pasta. Gwaine and Percival did not have much by way of chairs but each person had a pillow to sit on around the coffee table: Gwaine and Percival opposite each other and Merlin and Arthur the same.

Gwaine was telling a story about a honeybee and a donkey when Percy stood to start washing dishes. Merlin joined him to help but Percy gently shooed him away. “You brought the vegetables. I’ll do these.”

“You also cooked,” Merlin reminded.

“I like doing things with my hands.”

“Thank the Lord and Mother’s twat for that,” Gwaine sighed, falling back onto the floor while Arthur otherwise coughed on his water.

“Alright, well…I’ll be going,” Merlin said to no one in particular. He closed the door behind him and was fishing for his keys when he heard his name whispered.

Arthur’s head stuck out of Gwaine’s doorway to murmur, “Can I have a muffin?”

Merlin’s shoulders sagged as he exhaled. “Fine.”

“With butter?” Arthur chirped as he eagerly slid out of the flat.

“Don’t be greedy,” Merlin hushed. Arthur lifted a hand in defense and the door opened, revealing Merlin’s spacious and slightly unkempt studio. Regardless, he switched the oven on and put his muffins in to warm them.

“Five minutes,” he said.

“Do you need any more plants?” Arthur commented dryly.

Merlin raised a brow at him scrutinizing his shelves of potted plants and the three hanging by the windows. “I granted you muffins but I can revoke them.”

“No no, I’m in the hive now. I’m getting the honey,” Arthur declared, coming over to lean his hip against the counter. He inhaled deeply. “So what are we working with? Pumpkin? Cranberries and allspice?”

“Just about,” Merlin confirmed as he paused in reaching for a paper towel. “You know what allspice is?”

Arthur glared at him. “I am versed in spices.”

“Only the ones you like,” he huffed a laugh.

“Sure, the ones I like. Why bother with things I won’t eat?”

“Heaven forbid you’re ever asked to make anything,” Merlin sassed.

“I made you things,” Arthur refuted.

Merlin considered that. “I seem to remember water with overcooked potatoes.”

“That doesn’t qualify as soup?”

A wry smile teased Merlin’s lips. “No. No it doesn’t.”

“Then you can’t complain about me using the family’s chef.”

“I can when it becomes blazingly obvious how much of a spoiled prat you are,” Merlin laughed, and the mirth rolled through him as if he had been holding it in. Arthur stared at his smile, his own stuck wherever it was on his face.

Merlin’s eyes eventually found his, his laughter coming to a halt as he decided it was time to remove the pan of muffins. The task was easy enough but the potholder slipped a little in his hand and he over corrected. The pan clattered harshly over the stove, the oven door thumped shut, and Arthur’s arms grabbed him before he burned himself.

Merlin had moved before he realized. One second he was holding the muffins, the next he saw a long-sleeved arm in front of him, and then he was lunging toward Arthur’s chest, the warmth of this throat. Merlin molded himself to Arthur’s front, his nose finding that hot pocket of scent beneath his jaw that was _Arthur_ , filling his lungs, writing the feeling of his skin on his lips.

Arthur stood completely frozen, mostly as shocked as Merlin was and slow to process as Merlin shuttered around him, and then decisively shoved them apart. Merlin’s face was red, his hooded eyes pointed downward as he held Arthur at arm’s length.

“Um,” Arthur blurted.

“Y-You should go,” Merlin ordered, releasing him. “Take as many as you want.”

“Um,” Arthur grunted again, dumbly watching Merlin escape to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He glanced at the stove and back at the door, eventually deciding on the latter, but as he went to rap on the door, the shower switched on, silencing him.

Arthur rotated, feeling lost and unwelcome. He didn’t know this room. It was foreign and minimally furnished. Years ago in London, Merlin had lived with Gwaine and Lancel, together able to afford an impressive flat. A home where a fireplace was always crackling, Gwaine had installed a beer tap, and Merlin’s room was a haven of warm colours and clean smells…a nest of not one but two plush comforters and fleece-wrapped pillows even though Merlin only really used one…

Arthur frowned at the bed: a loosely made platform of white bedding. Sterile.

He approached it and lifted a corner of a duvet…another duvet was underneath it but sandwiched between them was a shining red throw blanket with silver snowflakes all over it. Arthur felt a sigh of relief escape him. He almost felt as if Merlin was a stranger, this white room so uncharacteristic of him. Except for the plants.

 _They clean the air! I’m not breathing in my own filth,_ he heard Merlin exclaim clearly in his memory. A huffed laugh burst from Arthur as he lifted a pillow, hugging it close to breath in…

Nothing.

His head lifted, confused, and then lowered once more. Nothing. Perhaps a lingering scent of lavender fabric softener, but Merlin’s warmth was missing. The touch of his skin, hours of lie-ins, and lingering aromas of self-indulgence. He’d had a year with Merlin, and he had respected Merlin’s pace, but even without sharing Merlin’s body, Arthur knew the smell of Merlin’s need. Like browned butter and sprinkled sugar to his senses, walking into Merlin’s room on a day he masturbated was equal parts torment and pleasure.

But Arthur placed the pillow back on the bed like he was leaving a puzzle wrapped in an enigma; the scentless resting place felt like a secret he did not want to unravel.

Merlin felt the door of his flat close and he slumped to the floor of the tub, hot water pounding over him despite his skin feeling more like the ice outside.

*******

Gaius sipped his hot wine as he watched the children waging a makeshift war in the snow beneath his bridge. The sun was out today but even while the trees dripped, the western sky already foretold another storm of ice.

Meanwhile, Merlin was late.

Finding his number, he called Merlin’s phone thrice before he answered. “Even for a lie-in, this is rather late for you.”

“Gaius…”

“Merlin?” his tone changed. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Merlin gasped in his ear. “Something’s happening.”

“Physically? Financially? I need details, Merlin,” he ordered gently as he made his way off the bridge. He could hear Merlin’s swallow and ragged breathing.

“Physically. Like…last time, but worse.”

Gaius frowned. “Like—” his features opened in horror. “Merlin, how much time have you spent with Arthur?”

“Too much, apparently,” he sobbed dryly, his agony tangible in his voice. “My body, i-it hurt-ts.”

“Of course it does, it’s screaming for your mate,” he commented bluntly as he tried to reach a street he might be able to hail a cab but his bridge was deep in the park and Gaius’s age did not grant him speed. “Merlin, I’ll do the best I can but you need to call someone else. Are not Percy or Gwaine next door? Merlin?”

No response came. Gaius wasted no time and dialed Gwaine. “Hi, Gaius, how can I serve?” he opened.

“Can you get to Merlin?”

Gwaine paused. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Do you remember his and Arthur’s break up?”

“Hard to forget. I’ve been trying to undo it since Arthur landed,” Gwaine said with a mixture of smugness and fatigue.

“Well you have had excruciating success.”

“Why does that sound less like a compliment and more like a warning?” Gwaine frowned.

“Because his body is reacting to Arthur’s proximity, like a chemical recoil.”

“I thought that’s what happened when he _ran_ from Arthur?” Gwaine said. “Do you mean he’s now allergic to him or something?”

“He hasn’t had a heat since he and Arthur parted,” Gaius revealed. That silenced Gwaine. “I suspect his body’s chemistry was ruined after being separated from his mate, but now that Arthur is back in his life again, his body is reacting.”

“But Arthur’s been around for a few days, why hasn’t Merlin reacted earlier?”

“The body takes time, and the heart even longer,” Gaius rushed.

“So he does love him! The twat!” Gwaine erupted. “I’ve been _trying—”_

“Can you or Percy reach him?” Gaius curtailed.

“Immediately?” Gwaine wondered. “Percy’s in Brooklyn and I’m in Queens for a job. I reckon forty-five minutes or more isn’t fast enough? Are you sure this isn’t something a hospital should handle?”

“I doubt a hospital is equipped to deal with the hormones of a true mate pairing,” Gaius declared.

“Well…there’s always Arthur,” Gwaine suggested warily. “He shirks work easily enough and has that posh chauffeur.”

Gaius sighed as he finally reached a road. “This could either be exactly what he needs or disastrous.”

“But, Gaius, they’re _true mates._ How could this be disastrous?”

“It’s Merlin and Arthur. They are too good at cocking things up.”

Gwaine snorted loudly in the receiver. “Fair. Fair.”

Gaius ended their call and made the decision. “Hello? Gaius?” Arthur answered after the third ring.

“I need you to meet me and then go to Merlin’s flat,” he said without preamble.

“What? Why? What’s the matter? Is Merlin okay?”

“No, he’s not, and…I’m not the right person you should speak to but it’s because of you.”

“Me?” and then Arthur realized, “Does he have food poisoning from dinner last night? I didn’t cook but the others did pressure Merlin to join us—”

“Just. Get. To. Central. Park. East side, I’m near the museum.”

True to Gwaine’s predictions, Arthur arrived within fifteen minutes. He flew out of his vehicle, scarf and coat flapping as he exclaimed, “Gaius, what’s this about?”

Instead of answering, Gaius handed him his key to Merlin’s flat. “Use this to get into his place. I’ll be right behind you.”

Arthur looked down at the key as if he’d just been handed an ancient artifact. “Won’t you ride with me?” he offered.

“I’m going to gather some things first,” he answered with finality but Arthur stopped him.

“Wait, is that all you’re going to tell me? What will I be walking into?”

For a moment Gaius looked like he was not going to say anything. He looked Arthur dead in the eyes and said, “The chemistry of Merlin’s body is changing because of you. Three years ago it changed because it believed it was not going to be granted its mate, now it is unwinding, and the result is excruciating. He’s not going to like it, but he needs someone to be with him. Might as well be you. Get going.”

Arthur stared at him as if he had just changed his hair to neon yellow and grew and extra eye. “Mates?” he uttered dumbly, but Gaius pushed him back into his car, on which Arthur bumped his head before Gaius shut the door after him.

*******

Arthur’s hand wavered in front of Merlin’s lock. Had Merlin gotten his heat early? Was that what Gaius meant when he said ‘chemistry’ and _’mates?’_ Arthur could understand a time of crisis, and sure, he and Merlin had dated but he felt _mates_ was a bit of a presumption…

The lock turned but upon pushing the door open, Arthur felt resistance against the door. Peeking around it, he saw a rolled up towel against the crack under the door. Looking up, the flat was empty but the bathroom door was closed. Arthur began to dread that Merlin truly had started his heat.

 _I shouldn’t be here for this. Merlin wouldn’t want me…_ But Gaius had trusted him and really, Arthur wanted to make sure Merlin was all right.

He knocked on the bathroom door. A brief sound came from within but nothing else. “Merlin? It’s me.”

Nothing. And then a sob, followed by, _“Arthur? Ah!”_

Something twisted violently within Arthur’s chest. “Gaius called me. What’s wrong? Are you in heat? Did your heat come early?”

Another pause. “N-No…I don’t have heats anymore.”

Arthur grimaced. “No heats anymore? What—”

_Chemistry._

“I’m coming in.”

“N-No! Don’t…” But the word fractured against whatever pain Merlin was feeling. Arthur did not so much as open the door as he did break through the lock. He had not thought he put that much strength behind his arm, but the piece of doorjamb wood clattering to the floor was proof enough. Again, a towel was against the door, and suddenly, Arthur understood why.

His hand swung up to cover his mouth and nose. “Holy fuck,” he exhaled. “Merlin, what’s happening to you?”

He could not actually see Merlin; all of his bedclothes had been moved into the tub for his scent—or whatever this was—to stay locked within the bathroom. He was burrowed deep within his nest, only a vague opening suggesting a hole for air. Arthur tried to gently reach into it but his hand was shaking and he interacted with an icy nose first. Feeling around, he found Merlin’s forehead. “Why are you so cold?”

The sound that erupted from him was a sob and a yell, a cry of agony that had Arthur wrenching his hand back. “I DON’T KNOW!” Merlin screamed, not out of anger but fear and torment.

“You’re going to hate me for this,” Arthur said, and before Merlin had time to react, he gripped the duvets and wrenched them out of the tub followed by the pillows. Merlin screamed and convulsed like he needed to vomit before he startled at the shower turning on around him.

“What are you doing?” he trembled, covering his head from the warming water.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized through tear-glazed eyes. “I need to wash…whatever this scent is, away, or else I’ll black out. It’s like…a concentrated version of you, but it’s barely recognizable.”

Merlin did vomit, then, but little to nothing came out. Watching him convulse was a long and excruciating handful of seconds. Arthur wanted nothing more than to pick him up, take him to bed, and not leave until Merlin was warm and winter was gone. As it was, Arthur knelt beside the tub, his palm coming under the water to cover Merlin’s head. He trembled fiercely. “Y-You-u sh-sh-shouldn-n’t touch-ch m-me.”

“Why not?” Arthur asked softly.

Merlin sobbed, as if the very effort of using his voice was wrecking him. “B-Because it’s you!”

“So I’ve heard,” Arthur tried to say lightly, “but I don’t yet understand how.”

Merlin sniffed harshly but his nose sounded full. “It’s my fault…” he reiterated, “b-because…you’re mine,” he sobbed. His sounded like his voice was deteriorating. “Y-You’re mine! And-d I r-ran fr-from you.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. Droplets bounced onto his face from how close he was. “What? Merlin, what are you saying?”

His eyes were swollen and red. “You’re mine,” he said weakly, his eyes meeting Arthur’s briefly before they began to sag closed.

Terror was like a lightning strike to Arthur’s chest. _“No,_ don’t faint. Merlin!”

Gripping his head, Arthur pulled him up, jostling him as carefully as he could manage. “Merlin! Hey!”

Those dark lashes fluttered open. An icy hand shakily lifted to touch his neck…his jaw. “It’d…be easier if you could feel…this too.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and blinked, different emotions slamming in his chest, warring for dominance. “Feel…do you mean…have you always felt?”

Merlin’s nod was weak in his hands. Arthur felt as if someone was trying to pull his ribs out of his nose, one at a time. “Wh…Why didn’t you tell me? All this time?”

Dense tears leaked down Merlin’s face to be caught by Arthur’s thumbs. “You loved her. Even if…I wanted you to choose me. Even if you were mine…if you were happier with someone else—”

“I wouldn’t _be happier_ with someone else!” he whispered angrily. “You should have dragged me away and told me!”

A strange, wet sound came from Merlin, and for a heart stopping second, Arthur feared he was drowning. “To the nearest hotel and pounced on you? Your fantasies always lacked etiquette.”

Arthur stared at him like an angry fish before his mouth closed contemplatively. After a moment, he said, “Did you not think of my point of view? What it would mean to me to not have you?”

“You didn’t know,” Merlin murmured as he set his head on the edge of the tub.

“It’s not about _knowing,”_ Arthur huffed, “or being dependent on you to tell me—still angry about that, don’t forget.”

Merlin patiently glared at him.

“If I could…” Arthur sighed raggedly. “Fuck, if I could have traded every moment I’d had with Gwen to undo that night, I would have. In a heartbeat. It wasn’t a choice any more…I felt like you had hidden fishhooks in me and as you ran, the lines were tearing me apart. It would have been easier to pry my ribs open.”

Merlin was silent, absorbing and weathering Arthur’s words. His lashes sagged closed, blinking heavily as Arthur’s fingertips caressed his temple, moving the tendrils of dark hair off his face. “How could you think I’d ever be okay without my true mate?” he whispered.

Merlin’s eyes opened only to close again as he felt Arthur’s soft lips between his brows. Like a drop of golden ink landing in water, his kiss flew through him, sagging and gliding in wonky directions all the way to his toes. His lips parted as his breath rushed out of him. Arthur’s hand found his chin, his thumb gently stroking over his cheek as they sat there in silence for a time.

Then, “You’re very cruel…knowing who my soul needs but leaving me to an imperfect life.”

Merlin’s features pinched, his eyes trying to develop more tears but unable as Arthur continued, “Although…you still accepted my date while I was with Gwen.”

His eyes opened to face the odd combination of arrogance and humour in Arthur’s eyes. “Did you enjoy it? Stealing me from her?”

Merlin’s lids fell to half-mast. “Get out.”

“No, I don’t think I shall.”

“You’re making this worse.”

“It’s not my fault you induced an inside-out heat,” Arthur chimed smugly. “Really, you’re making me feel inadequate. Shouldn’t it be the alphas who win and steal the omegas?”

“You’re an idiot,” Merlin defended weakly, burrowing as much as he could inside the tub.

“I don’t think so,” Arthur said as he cranked the shower off. Merlin perked up as a towel landed over him and Arthur scooped him out of the tub as if he weighed far less than he did. Merlin was shaky on his feet and collapsed against Arthur, but the alpha hardly minded as he peeled Merlin’s clothes off and bundled him once more in his duvets.

Helping him to the bed, Merlin landed like this was exactly where he needed to be before he peeked up at Arthur. “What are you doing?”

His head emerged from his shirt, blond hair in disarray as he said, “We need to turn this cold into a heat. Move over.”

Merlin had no idea what to say as Arthur stripped down and moved himself into Merlin’s nest. His body was scalding compared to Merlin’s as they both shivered while Arthur situated himself around Merlin. “There, this isn’t so bad. Keep those toes off my legs.”

Merlin sighed with annoyance but nudged himself closer against Arthur’s chest, his face seeking the warmth of his throat…

“If it wasn’t clear, it’s incredibly hot that you tried to steal me away from my girlfriend.”

Merlin groaned. _“Ugh, stop.”_

Arthur chuckled warmly, but his mirth cracked into exclamations as Merlin’s frigid hands sought his chest. Merlin’s own weak giggles made up for it.

*******

A knock on the door made Merlin realize he had fallen asleep. A growl deep in Arthur’s chest made him remember what had happened.

“Leave it out there. I’ll get it when we need it.” Arthur’s voice was not loud, but his alpha baritone carried well enough for whoever was outside to leave. Merlin blinked groggily as another kiss landed on his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

And so he did.

*******

He woke in the middle of the night, feeling disgustingly sweaty. Wind was whistling in the cracks of his windows as he tried to look around.

Arthur’s eyes were on him, glowing ever so faintly blue. Snowflakes flew like shrapnel past the windows, another blizzard tearing its way through the city. Arthur’s hands pulled Merlin’s hands up to his lips to touch, to kiss. Merlin slumped back beside him.

*******

The next Merlin woke, he knew he wouldn’t fall back asleep even though his consciousness remained in a strange, hazy state. Like the city in a fog, Merlin’s nerves flared like streetlights in the gloom. Thirst on one street. Hunger around the corner. And then a traffic light of unavoidable yearning.

Merlin pried his eyes open to see himself lying on top of a slumbering Arthur. The tawny chest hair clung to his cheek; he scrubbed a hand over his face before he returned to Arthur’s chest, breathing in the smell of his skin. Gods and earth, Arthur smelled good, like warm honey and man…

A hand was sliding up Merlin’s waist while another found his hip to push him just a little bit further on top—Merlin shuddered as slick oozed in a rush out of him. “Eugh,” he complained.

“What?” Arthur murmured groggily. His hands continued wandering Merlin’s body, unconsciously mapping his contours.

“It’s…disgusting,” Merlin complained as his head lowered beside Arthur’s for the latter to kiss his neck. “Involuntary discharge—hah!”

Arthur rolled onto his side, holding Merlin close so he could have his way with Merlin’s open neck and shoulder. His hand hooked behind Merlin’s knee while his own leg could slide in between Merlin’s as more slick smeared across his thigh. “We have vastly different opinions on that.”

Merlin trembled against the soft rumble in his chest, the protective, arousing growl making a tingle in his pelvis that burst another bubble of lubricant. The very sound was wanton and lewd—

He gasped as fingers felt his sore entrance, one of them gently sliding in a little and back out. His shoulders hunched as his hands found Arthur’s chest again, his eyes lifting to find Arthur’s watching him.

“Are you going to fuck me before you kiss me?”

That sideways grin flashed on the alpha's face. “I’d fuck you into spring if I had my way but apparently that’s poor etiquette.”

Merlin’s mouth opened to retort but Arthur’s teeth caught his bottom lip, giving it a tug that had Merlin gasping until he grabbed Arthur’s face and messily claimed his lips. The sound of Merlin’s ass was forgotten in lieu of his own mewls and moans against Arthur’s mouth. His tongue slid between Merlin’s lips, earning a delicious breathy moan before he withdrew for Merlin to chase after him. Merlin’s arms slid around his neck as Arthur scooped his slick to pump over his engorged length. The slippery head was against Merlin’s entrance as Arthur parted for air.

_“Merlin…”_

Merlin nodded against his face, pulling him back for more as Arthur’s cock pushed through his soft, wet muscle, guided into Merlin’s scorching depths.

Merlin winced, accidentally biting Arthur’s lips, not that he minded. Giving him time, he returned to kissing Merlin’s shoulder, pushing it back so he could litter moist kisses over his chest and nipple.

“C-Could you…” Merlin gasped. “Just rub the front? Stay inside, just—rub the front. It’s too much.”

Arthur’s hand came behind his head to push Merlin’s forehead against his while the other slid up his shaft, twisted around the head, and plunged back down. Merlin shook around him, accidentally moving himself over Arthur’s cock.

“Gently,” Arthur hushed, seeing Merlin grimace. “We have a whole blizzard to lust through.”

That familiar glare shot from Merlin’s hooded eyes, creating a silly smile on Arthur’s face. “You’re mine,” he purred, kissing Merlin once and leaving him lurching for more. “You’re mine.”

Merlin nodded and exclaimed a sound as Arthur slowly lifted his hips into him. His penis in Arthur’s hand was leaking hot, gooey fluid, adding to the all consuming aroma he had missed so dearly.

“You drive me crazy. You drive me angry. I’ll love you forever…forever…forever, because you’re mine,” he growled huskily as Merlin fumbled for his hands, pleading for him to move faster. And then he was coming, seed spurting in bursts across Arthur’s abdomen as Merlin all but thrashed around him. His toes curled against Arthur’s calves, inducing his own legs to push Merlin’s just a little bit wider so he could keep his slow pace sliding in and out of him.

The speed was agonizing, driving Arthur close with every drag of his cock, only to keep him barely from his own release until Merlin craned his face up for another sloppy, needy kiss. His own shaft had remained hard and now he moved against Arthur, relishing the length and thickness carving its place inside of him.

A guttural sound escaped Arthur as he came, his orgasm violently coursing through him as he held Merlin tightly. After a long while, he came out of it to kiss Merlin’s swollen lips, and then felt Merlin shudder as he not only pulled out, but moved down Merlin’s body within the covers.

“Arthur,” he slurred, and then forewent words as he felt himself slide into Arthur’s mouth until he swallowed Merlin’s cum. Arthur wasted no time in gripping his pelvis, turning him over and ravaging Merlin’s ass, licking deep and tasting himself there. Merlin lurched and cried out when he bit the soft meat of one cheek, and then the other.

“Arthur!”

But he relished the way Merlin trembled when he licked up the valley and planted a kiss on his tailbone, and another higher up. Arthur worked his way up Merlin's spine until his length rested on Merlin’s ass, slowly grinding in between his rosy bite marks. “May I have you again?” he purred.

Merlin hesitated and then nodded frantically. “Yes!”

Arthur slid inside easily. Merlin’s soft ass in the cradle of his pelvis was enough to drive Arthur mad. He moved a hand around Merlin’s front, sliding up Merlin’s chest and the front of his throat. Merlin’s heartbeat thundered in his palm.

“Are you all right?” he breathed, not squeezing his hand. Just having it there was a bond of trust between them.

Merlin nodded briefly. “Fuck me.”

Arthur’s head hung to land on his shoulder. “Holy hell…I’m a dead man.”

“Don’t you dare,” Merlin huffed as if he’d been running. “Not until I’m finished with you.”

Arthur could only laugh as he lowered himself to lie across Merlin, his elbows propping himself up. Merlin’s head turned to look at him. “Kiss me first,” Arthur whispered. Merlin did, and simultaneously pushed himself back over his erection. Merlin liked the way Arthur’s mouth fell open, letting him lick across that swollen lip and give it a nibble.

Then a pop not unlike a champagne bottle made them both pause, and they realized something a lot like a wedding ballad was playing from Percy and Gwaine’s apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> You can visit me on [Tumblr](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/) or I'm more active on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums). I looove receiving messages from you all <333


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